


Home is What You make It

by SunshineAndSnark (GoodApollo27)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Crying, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Home, M/M, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodApollo27/pseuds/SunshineAndSnark
Summary: He thought he was doing fine. He’d read the headlines, same as all of them. Saw the smoke in the distance, the Imperial airships flying overhead as the news drifted from the speaker of his phone.It had been three days since then. Three days.He hadn’t cried. Not once. He had to stay strong, to be the one to brighten the mood. It was easy, pushing it all aside.Or… he thought so, at least.Just took a while for it to actually sink in, he guessed.And once it did finally sink in…Prompto mourns the fall of Insomnia and the loss of his home, but gains more than he could have imagined after a chance interaction with Ignis.





	Home is What You make It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sayura21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayura21/gifts).



> A prompt fic for my most wonderful friend, sayura21. ♡ I'm sorry, i went the angst-ish route, but I hope that you enjoy this one. The prompt was "the feel of fingers brushing together by accident". As usual, I did a super loose inspired by the prompt sort of thing.

He thought he was doing fine. He’d read the headlines, same as all of them. Saw the smoke in the distance, the Imperial airships flying overhead as the news drifted from the speaker of his phone. 

It had been three days since then. Three days. 

He hadn’t cried. Not once. He had to stay strong, to be the one to brighten the mood. It was easy, pushing it all aside.

Or… he thought so, at least.

Just took a while for it to actually sink in, he guessed. 

And once it  _ did _ finally sink in…

Prompto curled his arms tighter around himself, like he could push it all back in. All of the tears and pain and the ugly, wracking sobs. His gasping breaths as his lungs simply refused to take in enough air. If he just held onto himself hard enough, maybe he would stop falling apart.

And he really needed to. What if one of the guys came back? They’d asked him if he wanted to check out a nearby fishing hole with Noct, try to cheer the Prince up a little, give him something to take his troubles off his mind for the day. Not much else to do until they reached Lestallum.

Prompto had felt it when he woke up that morning, a nervous buzzing in his chest, his thoughts already spinning too fast. And then that undeniable roll of dread low in his stomach. 

He’d waved off the offer, mumbling that he wasn’t feeling well. It was the truth. He really wasn’t. And the last that any of them needed was for him to bring them down.

Ignis had frowned, looking over him like he could scan for even the smallest hint of illness. Prompto sank down further into his blankets as Ignis peeled off a glove, pressing the back of his hand to his brow. And boy, did that just send his heart racing even faster.

“No trace of fever,” Ignis murmured to himself, slipping his glove back on. “Do you need me to remain here?” he asked, all care and concern and even just that almost sent the tears flowing. How many times had he been sick at home with no one else there? 

Well, now home was gone. 

“Nope! I’m good! Just going to rest!” Prompto chirped, hoping his eyes didn’t look too bright or wet. Or if they did, he really hoped that Ignis would just chalk it up to him not feeling well. And then leave. Please,  _ please _ , just leave so he could fall apart in peace like the pathetic mess he was.

Ignis eyed him for a moment, and Prompto could almost  _ see _ him battling with himself.

“Go! I’ll be fine! I promise.”

Ignis heaved a sigh. “You are to call me if your condition worsens, is that understood?”

Prompto bit his lip, nodding vigorously before pulling his blanket back over his head. Already, the tears were gathering into an unstoppable force, a few already streaking down his cheeks to fall damp on his pillow. He had to give himself some serious props for keeping his voice level and cheerful when he answered.

“If anything goes wrong, page Dr. Ignis! G-gotcha!” He freed an arm from the blanket to flash a thumbs-up.

Ignis waited a few moments more before finally backing out of the tent, his footsteps fading away as he left Prompto and the tent behind. Finally.

He held it in until he heard the slam of the Regalia doors. Until he heard the rev of the engine and the crunch of gravel as his friends left their little Haven behind. He waited several more minutes for good measure, feeling like he was going to burst.

And then he let it out.

In great, trembling cries that shook through his bones.

It was gone. It was all gone. Everything that he knew. His old school with it’s long, bright halls. That cafe where he bumped into Ignis one day while jogging, with the chalkboard daily special sign out on the sidewalk.

Noct’s apartment. His own house. 

His room. All of the pictures that he had hung on his walls. Every piece of his life that he hadn’t taken with him.

And his parents. He hadn’t said goodbye. Hadn’t had the chance to see them one last time, before he left. He thought that he would be back. That he would be back with new pictures to show them, to hang up in his room, warm memories to think of as he fell asleep in his comfy, familiar bed. Had his parents thought of him? In their last moments before it all came crashing down. Were they thinking of their son?

Prompto shoved his face down into his pillow, his shoulders aching, throat clogged and stinging. He howled, the sound muffled by fabric and stuffing. He howled out every ounce of pain and betrayal he felt, loss and fear for their futures. What were they going to do, now? What were they seriously going to do?

The sounds eventually died, his gasps easing into soft, shuddering sobs. Thank the gods. Because that was when he felt a hand rest against his shoulder.

Prompto shot straight up, his movements shoving the hand aside. He stared wide-eyed at the figure silhouetted in the tent opening, crouched with one hand still outstretched. His mind was foggy, slow to process just who it was. Until they spoke. That accent was unmistakable.

“I-Ignis…?” He let out a shaky breath, the tension draining from him until he collapsed back on his rear.

“Prompto. Are you--?” Ignis shook his head at his own words, sweeping over to kneel beside Prompto without further question. His hand rubbed soothing circles into Prompto’s shoulders, massaging away some of the tension and ache. 

Prompto sniffled, loud and unashamed. There was no hiding it. If his face looked as puffy and messy as it felt… “Y-yeah… I’m… I’m crying…” he said with a wet chuckle, staring down at his lap, at the splotches of wetness on his blanket.

Ignis fished into his pocket with his free hand, keeping up the soft motions with his other. And really, Prompto was pretty glad for that. It was doing wonders for helping him breathe.

“Here,” Ignis said, his voice almost unbearably soft as he held out a dark purple handkerchief.

Prompto blinked at it for a moment, his mouth falling open. “Iggy… I-I can’t! I’ll get it all gross and snotty and--”

“And that is exactly what these are meant for,” Ignis said, soft and firm. He leaned forward, pressing the fabric into his hands and ordering Prompto to blow his nose. “I have spares,” he assured, patting his pocket`. 

Prompto did as he was told, crinkling his nose as he folded the now ruined fabric into a neat little bundle before setting it aside.

Ignis smiled, tilting his head as he fixed Prompto with a steady gaze, his eyes kind and soft. “Now, may I ask why you were crying?”

Prompto chewed his lip. He still was, technically, a tear slipping free here and there. But he wasn’t about to correct Ignis on something that didn't matter.

“If you prefer not to share--”

“Home,” Prompto said, his voice wobbling on the simple word. Wobbling as if it were going to fall over the edge and take him with it, back into that spiral of fear and despair.

A shadow passed over Ignis’ eyes, his chin dropping slightly. “Ah. What of home?”

Prompto stared in disbelief. “What of it? Ignis, it’s gone! Insomnia, The Citadel, our  _ homes _ !” He started to shake again, feeling like his barely healed wounds were reopening. “Our lives… There’s nothing left. Everything that we ever knew is gone! How can you be so calm!?”

Ignis didn’t speak, just watched Prompto for a moment, frowning. When Prompto looked up, he could see the shadow over Ignis’ face. 

“I-I’m sorry, Iggy… I didn't mean to blow up like that.”

“Not all was lost,” Ignis murmured, a quiet strength in his voice. “What matters most to me… all that I need… I still have. Very close to me, in fact.”

Prompto blinked, wiping an arm across his eyes. 

“Noct?” he ventured, the single name crumpling something in his chest. Of course, Noct. As long as Ignis had his Prince, he had his world, he was happy. 

“And you.”

What? Prompto's head jerked up, the look in Ignis’ eyes sending his heart into fluttering little flips. “And Gladio?” he blurted, leaning forward almost desperately, watching Ignis as he responded.

Ignis closed his eyes with a soft chuckle. “My family,” he said with a nod. “My home.”

Prompto sniffled, turning the words over in his head. “We’re… Noct and Gladio and… a-and me? We’re your home?”

“Indeed. Insomnia was where I grew up, where I lived. My future. My sense of security.” Ignis paused, adjusting his glasses. It might have been just a glint of light reflected in the lenses, but Prompto thought that he saw a hint of wetness. “And I will miss it dearly. But those virtues lie not with Insomnia alone. Rather, they were made by those who lived there with me.” He let his gaze rest purposefully on Prompto. “Without them, Insomnia is nothing more than a place.”

Prompto furrowed his brow. “I… I think I get it? Like, how Noct’s apartment always felt more like home than… well,  _ home. _ Because you-- a-and Noct! You and Noct were always there, always made it feel comfortable and safe.”

Ignis nodded, an encouraging smile on his face.

“Prompto, you haven’t lost all of your family, nor your home. You have Noct, Gladio, myself. The family that you chose. And that chose you in return.” 

Prompto jumped, leather brushing his fingers, soft and warm. His cheeks flared immediately as he looked down just in time to see Ignis start to pull his hand away, an apology already on his lips.

He didn’t know what possessed him in that moment, what made him act without thinking. One second, Ignis was pulling away. And when he blinked, Ignis’ hand was caught secure in his own. 

Wide blue eyes met steady green, and Prompto's blush only deepened by what he saw.

There was sorrow there, the brightness of tears. A stubborn determination. 

And something that he thought he would only ever see in movies or on TV. Or between other people. People who weren’t him.

Ignis cleared his throat, wrapping his fingers around Prompto's, his grip cozy and firm. “I… intended to remain silent on the matter. You have quite enough on your mind and all… but… I don’t wish you to suffer alone. Not only in this instance, but in general,” Ignis said, speaking a little faster than normal, that look of determination intensifying. 

“What do you mean?” Prompto asked, swallowing hard. His hand nearly shook in Ignis’, his heart doing about the same.

“I cannot give you back all that you feel you lost,” Ignis murmured, slowing his words. “But if you would allow, I would like to give you what I can.” His grip loosened, thumb sliding over the back of Prompto's hand in a gentle stroke that sent goosebumps shooting up his arms.

Prompto's mouth fell open, his breath catching in his throat until all that came out were choked little squeaks.

“I-I don’t-- I don’t understand. A-are you…? Are you asking to be my…?” he couldn't even say the words. This had to be some kind of misunderstanding. 

But there was no mistaking the light blush over Ignis’ own cheeks. And that look in his eyes only deepened, burned warmer as he spoke. “I am asking to be your comfort. Your sense of familiarity, and of security. I am asking to assist as you make new dreams and plans for your future. I...” he paused, glancing away for a moment as if his nerve had failed him. But only for a moment. “I would like to share that future with you. Whatever it may be.”

Prompto pressed his other hand to his mouth, his fingers trembling in Ignis’ hold. “Boyfriend!?” he squeaked, unable to say much more.

Ignis gave a fond chuckle, shaking his head. “Indeed. Your boyfriend.”

Prompto couldn't help himself. The tears started spilling, his shoulders shaking again. But this time, he wasn’t alone. Ignis hesitated for only a moment before pulling Prompto into his arms with a gentle tug.

“You need not hide your fears and sorrows. Not any longer, Prompto,” Ignis murmured, smoothing a hand through Prompto's hair. “Your burdens are no longer solely your own to shoulder.”

Prompto sniffled, pressing his face into Ignis’ chest as his eyes streamed. His heart, empty and broken, felt like it was starting to piece back together. Wrapped in Ignis’ arms, in the calm of his voice as he murmured soft words of comfort, Prompto let himself mourn, let himself celebrate. For the first time in the past three days, he felt happy and safe.

No, he didn’t have everything back. But he had this. Ignis. His friends. His family. His home.


End file.
